


Summertime Crushes (and Crocs)

by Seventy_Seasons



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, More like Customer/Employee to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Pining, Sokka loves crocs too much, The Crocverse, Zuko hates crocs but he loves Sokka, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seventy_Seasons/pseuds/Seventy_Seasons
Summary: In which Sokka is a croc enthusiast, Zuko is a disgruntled Croc Store employee, and both of them fall a little bit in love.(A love letter to @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice’s Crocverse)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 320
Kudos: 694





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hot_leaf_juice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_leaf_juice/gifts).



> Hello! This story was completely inspired by @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice’s Crocverse on Tumblr. I highly recommend checking it out, but if you aren’t familiar with the Crocverse, don’t worry; this story stands alone. 
> 
> Updates every Friday!

First and foremost, regardless of whatever Katara might have said, the intervention had been complete overkill.

Okay, fine, maybe Sokka’s behavior had been “concerning,” and “irresponsible,” and, “just really fucking weird, Sokka, this is _not_ normal behavior.” And yes, in retrospect he could admit that _maybe_ buying twenty-five pairs of crocs in just under two months _might_ have been a _little_ … excessive. Maybe.

But ambushing him when he got back from his afternoon shift to hold a goddamn _Croc Intervention_ had still been ridiculously uncalled for, and Sokka was sticking to that.

(Aang had made a neon orange sign with “ _Sokka’s Crocvention”_ written on it. He’d drawn exactly twenty-five crocs around the edges of the poster board. Katara forced him to watch a _PowerPoint presentation_ outlining his friends’ concerns, with notable slides including: Stop Wasting All Your Money Dumbass; and; Really, You Make Minimum Wage, Stop Spending All Your Money On Crocs; and; The Possible Mental Health Ramifications Of My Brother Owning 25 Pairs Of Crocs. Toph had punched him in the arm and tried to set his crocs on fire, _while Sokka was wearing them_.)

(Sokka’s friends were _terrible_.)

Ridiculous and extra as the intervention had unquestionably been, it had at least succeeded in forcing Sokka to face some potentially uncomfortable truths. (Like how he really _couldn’t_ afford to keep buying all these crocs, holy shit.) But more importantly, like how maybe this whole thing had never actually been about crocs at all, undoubtedly epic as they were.

…Dammit. He hated it when Katara’s plans worked.

* * *

_The First Week of Summer_

Sokka’s new job was _the best._ He honestly hadn’t expected Piandao to hire him, since he’d pretty much flubbed the interview by admitting he had no clue how to work a cash register or stock shelves or do any of the other things a Trader Joe’s employee might reasonably be expected to do. Luckily for him, though, Piandao had taken all that as a sign of “humility” and “integrity” instead of “a complete lack of interviewing skills,” and now Sokka was the proud owner of a minimum wage summer job.

Piandao let him steal free samples and Hawaiian shirts were built into the employee uniform. Sokka _loved_ it.

Plus, he was earning his own money for the first time in his life, and Sokka had decided he very much enjoyed having cash to burn. Or – okay, maybe not “cash to burn,” since he was just making minimum wage and saving for college was probably a thing he should be doing, but, like. Cash to smolder? Sokka very much enjoyed having cash to smolder.

And he was being smart about his money! Mostly! He’d barely made any impulse buys since getting his first few paychecks. So, logically, Sokka figured his smart spending practices had earned him the _right_ to a nice little impulse buy. As a treat! For all the impulse buys he hadn’t been buying!

* * *

The strip mall sat pretty squarely in the middle of nowhere, and was boarded on two sides by The Creepy Swamp.TM Aang had once dragged Sokka and Katara into The Creepy SwampTM because, “I had a dream about the swamp and there were a ton of trees but they turned out to just be one really huge tree! And the trees talked to me and it was really cool! Plus Appa was there only he was huge and he flew into a tornado! We should go check it out!” They’d gotten ridiculously lost and wandered around hopelessly for like three hours, before finally running into a couple weird guys who apparently lived in the swamp and who’d showed them the way out. Aang had thought it was a cool adventure, but Sokka firmly maintained that The Creepy SwampTM had evil vibes and refused to make any return trips.

It had been upon their eventual exodus from The Creepy Swamp,TM however, that Sokka had first stumbled upon the White Lotus strip mall. The swamp sucked, but Sokka liked hanging out at the White Lotus and making a menace of himself to Jeong Jeong, the owner of Destiny Antiques. It was a small store full of all kinds of bizarre vintage knick knacks, owned by a bizarre brooding old man who spoke in riddles and yelled at Sokka for touching all the expensive antiques. Sokka had a feeling Jeong Jeong had a secret soft spot for him, though. Probably.

What Jeong Jeong definitely did _not_ have a soft spot for was the Croc shop that had recently moved in next door. Sokka was very sure of this, because on every one of his visits to Destiny Antiques since the Croc store opened, Jeong Jeong had done nothing but mutter under his breath about how the store had, “completely ruined the atmosphere of this entire strip mall!” Which Jeong Jeong had apparently spent the past thirty years perfecting.

On his first visit AC (After Crocs), Sokka had made the mistake of replying to Jeong Jeong’s aggressive muttering with, “Wait, there’s a Croc Store now? Hell yeah!” This resulted in setting Jeong Jeong off on a lengthy and murderous tirade, and Sokka had refrained from voicing his croc-related excitement since. Croc-related excitement made Jeong Jeong come unhinged. 

But Sokka was excited about the Croc Store, make no mistake. Crocs were epic! Even if none of his friends agreed with him and kept insisting on calling them cursed. Clearly, they lacked Sokka’s refined appreciation for the finer things in life.

Sokka’s love affair with crocs began when he got a neon turquoise pair when he was seven, and for a full year he’d refused to don any other form of footwear. He’d eventually grown out of them, though, and in the years since had cycled through a veritable rainbow of the rubbery shoes. As chance would have it, he was just reaching the point of needing a replacement pair for his current highlighter yellow crocs when the new store conveniently opened right next door to his regular hangout.

And now, armed with Trader Joe’s cash and unquestionable style, Sokka was ready to make his first ever purchase of crocs with his own money.

Such were the events which brought Sokka to the White Lotus’ Croc Store one fine Saturday morning, completely unaware of exactly what he was about to get himself into.

With the casual confidence particular to someone about to be completely blindsided by fate, Sokka strolled into the small store, setting off the small bell attached to the door.

At the sound, what appeared to be the only employee, and, in fact, the only person inside the shop, turned around to face Sokka.

He seemed to be around Sokka’s age; tall, with messy black hair, amber eyes, and a massive burn scar taking up the whole left side of his face.

The first thing Sokka registered was that the boy was ridiculously, unfairly attractive. The second thing was that he wasn’t wearing crocs. And the third thing was that he _was ridiculously, unfairly attractive; holy shit that can’t be legal._

Apparently oblivious to Sokka’s minor existential crisis, Tall Dark and Brooding glared at him in greeting and raised one hand in an awkward wave.

“Hello, Zuko here. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

In response, Sokka eloquently squawked out a high pitched, “Yep!” tripped over absolutely nothing on his way to a nearby display of crocs, and felt his heartbeat ricochet to about one billion miles per hour.

Thus began the Summer of Crocs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos or comments so far! I hope you enjoy chapter 2 :D

First and foremost, regardless of whatever Uncle might have thought, crocs were an insult to nature, humanity, and simple decency.

Opening a croc store had  _ not  _ been Zuko’s idea. Obviously. And if the idea had been  _ anyone  _ else’s, Zuko would have burned his other eye off before he agreed to it. But it had been Uncle’s idea, and the universe reveled in Zuko’s misery, so there he was. Stuck working in a godforsaken croc store on the edge of a city in Florida, waiting for death to claim him.

But while Zuko was willing to put aside his pride and work in the croc store for Uncle’s sake, he was  _ not  _ going to wear the cursed things. Some lines, even Uncle couldn’t get him to cross.

They’d only opened the store a couple of weeks ago, and Zuko was already bored out of his mind. Uncle Iroh planned to wait a while before hiring any other employees. After all, it wasn’t like people were about to line up around the block to get into a croc store. Even in Florida, people had  _ some  _ taste. And since it was still summer, and Zuko had absolutely nowhere else to be, he and Uncle could handle the store by themselves until Zuko started senior year in the fall. Zuko was fine with that - his patience was already going to be frayed from being surrounded by  _ crocs  _ all day, so the fewer people he had to deal with, the better. But it did mean that Zuko had been standing around with pretty much nothing to do for the whole morning, and with only Uncle for company. Actually, not even that at the moment, since Uncle had left a while ago to try and make friends with the neighboring shop owner. 

Some very smelly men wearing uncomfortably little clothing who Zuko was pretty sure had walked straight out of the creepy-ass swamp had come in earlier and bought a couple pairs of camo crocs, but no one had been by since. 

In conclusion, Zuko was bored out of his mind - and, as usual, the universe had apparently decided to fix this in the least helpful way possible, by sending him… this

This, being the absolute disaster who had just barreled into the croc store. 

The customer was a boy probably around Zuko’s age. The fact that he’d just entered a croc store, seemingly of his own free will, would have been enough to make Zuko suspicious on its own. But the teen was wearing an electric blue Hawaiian shirt over a purple tank top with the phrase: “Women want me; Fish fear me; Mermaids haven’t made their minds up yet,” printed on it in bold yellow curly letters. His khakis had flames painted on the cuffs. He was apparently in the market for crocs.

To make matters worse - the other boy was objectively gorgeous. He was all smooth brown skin and toned muscles, blinding white teeth and ocean blue eyes. 

Zuko would not be attracted to someone wearing a Hawaiian shirt  _ that  _ terrible.  _ Uncle  _ would wear that shirt. Zuko  _ refused. _

Stoically, Zuko greeted him and issued an offer of assistance he hoped the stranger would not take advantage of. 

In fact, maybe the boy would just turn around and walk out right now. Maybe he hadn’t meant to enter the croc store, and he would leave and let Zuko get back to suffering in solitude, like he preferred.

Instead - because, again, the universe hated Zuko - the unfairly attractive teen proceeded to almost fall flat on his face before turning to walk further into the store.

Zuko could already feel the headache building in the back of his skull.

Great. Just great. 

* * *

The gorgeous eyesore had been staring at various croc displays for the past ten minutes. Sometime in the past five minutes, the teen had started humming. Loudly. And  _ badly.  _

He kept staring at Zuko, too. Kept glancing over at him when he thought Zuko wasn’t looking. 

Uncle Iroh still wasn’t back, and Zuko’s headache was well on its way to becoming a full blown migraine. 

The teen started drumming on stacks of shoeboxes in time with a nonexistent beat, and Zuko wanted to slam his head against the counter. He didn’t, because this store was important to Uncle and it was important that it did well, which wouldn’t happen if Zuko drove off potential customers. But it was a near thing. 

Zuko was so busy focusing on all the reasons why strangling the customer would be a bad idea, that he was caught off guard when said customer banged a shoebox down on the checkout counter right in front of Zuko. 

Up close, his eyes looked even bluer, and his brown hair seemed impossibly soft. Zuko wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth. 

Instead, he scowled, grunted, and grabbed the barcode scanner. The boy was apparently not deterred by this less than warm response, and smiled widely at Zuko. 

“So, Zuko, huh?” he asked breezily, with a nod to the name tag Uncle had insisted he wear. Zuko hadn’t wanted to wear it for exactly this reason - he knew his name was strange and he didn’t need stupidly hot customers to make rude comments about it.

“Yes.”

“Cool, cool. I’m Sokka!” Zuko didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that information, other than think that Sokka’s name wasn’t exactly common either, so it’s not like he had much right to judge Zuko’s. Glass fucking houses. 

“Okay.” The scanner was stubbornly refusing to scan the stupid barcode. Zuko tried again, more aggressively, and very carefully did not bang it against the countertop, aware of Sokka’s eyes on him the whole time. It finally worked, and he turned to Sokka with a flat, “That’ll be $44.99.”

Sokka handed over his card far too enthusiastically, and Zuko took care not to brush his fingers as he took it from him. 

The card had a picture of a cartoon otter printed on it. Zuko didn’t even know that was allowed.

“Debit or credit?”

“Debit!” Leaning forward, Sokka grabbed onto his shoebox and flipped it open. Then, he angled it toward Zuko and asked, “I had a pair just like these when I was a kid. My dad got them for me. Great color, huh?”

The crocs were neon turquoise. The color looked like something a radioactive jellyfish might throw up, if jellyfish could puke. Or be radioactive. 

“Sure,” Zuko said, uncomfortably conscious of how Sokka was  _ still _ staring at him. Zuko knew what he was staring at. He wondered how many questions Sokka would ask before he asked about the scar. People who stared like that always asked about the fucking scar. Zuko’s skin felt too tight and he clenched his jaw to keep from snapping.

“So why aren’t you wearing crocs?” Sokka asked. He was leaning forward onto the counter, because apparently, on top of everything else, he also lacked any awareness of personal space. 

“Why do you keep asking me all these fucking questions,” was how Zuko wanted to respond. 

Instead, he took a calming breath, like Uncle had taught him, grit his teeth, and said, “Because crocs are fucking hideous.” 

...The calming breath might not have been as effective as Zuko had hoped. Sokka’s eyes had gone wide. Resignedly, Zuko realized that insulting the very product he was attempting to sell was… probably not good business practice.

He steeled himself for insulted outrage - only… it didn’t come? Actually, Sokka didn’t seem offended at all. In fact, he started… laughing? 

In a state of vague shock, Zuko watched as Sokka let out peals of laughter and slapped the checkout counter a few times for good measure. Zuko had insulted the very shoes he just spent nearly fifty dollars on, and Sokka had apparently found it hilarious. 

What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

(Zuko also noted, with no small amount of bitterness, that even Sokka’s laugh was attractive. It really just fucking figured.)

Having apparently reached the end of his amusement, Sokka sighed and wiped a tear from his eye.

“You sound just like my sister; she hates these things too. Well, guess there’s no accounting for good taste!”

Zuko… did not have the slightest clue how to respond to that. He figured silence was probably a better bet than blatantly insulting the customer a second time, so he wordlessly swiped Sokka’s debit card and continued to stare at him with vaguely hostile suspicion. 

“So,” Oh,  _ holy shit _ , did this guy ever stop? “If you hate crocs so much, why are you working at a croc store?”

Zuko could not have been more done with this conversation. “Because my uncle owns it. Here’s your receipt; have a good day.” 

Still grinning brightly, Sokka grabbed his receipt, debit card, and shoebox, and, apparently intending to change into his new crocs right then and there, plopped down on the floor in front of the cash register. 

Zuko resumed his calming breaths until eventually Sokka stood up again, old sandals tucked away in his shoebox and newly donned crocs completing his truly horrendous ensemble. 

With a cheerful wave, Sokka said, “Thanks Zuko! See you around!” And then, finally, he left the store, whistling as he went. 

Zuko let out the groan he’d been repressing the entire time Sokka was inside the store, and rubbed at his forehead. Fucking hell. 

Sokka had said he’d see him around, but Zuko consoled himself with the knowledge that it had probably just been a figure of speech. Sokka had already bought a pair of crocs and apparently they had fit; it wasn’t likely he’d be coming back to the store. Zuko wouldn’t have to deal with the obnoxious boy again, and thank fuck for that.

Even though Sokka really had been gorgeous. And friendly. And hadn’t ended up asking about the scar, after all, despite all the staring.

...Part of Zuko wasn’t as thrilled by the idea of never seeing Sokka again as it should have been. It was the same part of him that hadn’t been able to stop staring at Sokka’s smile. It was a larger part of him than he would have cared to admit.

The knowledge that he, to any miniscule degree, kind of wanted to see Sokka again, made Zuko want to throw himself into the sea. 

He groaned again, louder this time, and buried his head in his arms.

Of course, that was the exact moment when Uncle Iroh decided to return to the store.

“Hello nephew! My apologies for being away for so long; I was drawn into a wonderful debate with our kind neighbor. Hopefully the store did not give you any trouble?”

Zuko glowered at Uncle, which did nothing to affect his cheerful smile. That seemed to be a common occurrence lately. 

“The store was fine, Uncle.”

“I am glad to hear it! I have a good feeling about this endeavor, Zuko. And how nice, to have such pleasant neighbors!”

Zuko knew for a fact that the only ‘neighbor’ Uncle had visited had been Jeong Jeong, owner of the antique shop next door. He also knew that Jeong Jeong  _ hated  _ crocs and resented their store with a fiery passion. Zuko could relate, but still. He wasn’t exactly what Zuko would call a ‘pleasant neighbor.’ 

Before he could decide whether or not pointing this out to Uncle would be worth it, he casually asked, “So, did you have any interesting customers while I was gone?” 

That was enough to drive any thought of Jeong Jeong out of Zuko’s head. Scowling, he quickly said, “No!” 

...Maybe a bit too quickly. And a bit too loudly. But Zuko was  _ not  _ being defensive.

The look Uncle gave him made it clear he didn’t believe that one bit.

“Really? Because I met a very pleasant young man as I was leaving Jeong Jeong’s. And with such wonderful taste in footwear!”

Zuko did not get paid nearly enough to deal with  _ any  _ of this. Somehow, his scowl managed to get even deeper as he stormed away from the register. He’d earned a break, anyway. 

He slammed the door to the break room and collapsed into the chair furthest from the main store. Then, he steadfastly and determinedly attempted to think about anything other than stupid customers with stupid eyes and stupid smiles and stupid fucking crocs, for a whole fifteen minutes. 

As with many other things in Zuko’s seventeen years, he had remarkably little success. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka: *exists*  
> Zuko: Wow how dare you  
> I hope you all enjoyed this update; if you did, please leave a comment!   
> Next chapter will be up in a week. Thanks so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who left comments and kudos on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this update :D

As he stepped out of the croc store, newly purchased crocs proudly affixed to his feet, Sokka could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cheeks. 

Fuck. So the croc store employee; aka Tall, Dark, and Brooding; aka the most attractive man Sokka had ever laid eyes on; aka  _ Zuko _ , was apparently also sarcastic and blunt and rude as hell.

He was  _ exactly  _ Sokka’s type, and Sokka was pretty sure he had just annoyed the hell out of him. And he had definitely made him uncomfortable with all that staring. He hadn’t been able to help it! Zuko was, again, the  _ most  _ attractive man Sokka had  _ ever  _ laid eyes on. He couldn’t be expected to function normally when he was blindsided with all that! He had tried to keep his eyes to himself, but it was kind of fucking difficult when his brain kept noticing how Zuko’s eyes looked almost golden when the sun hit them just right. 

This always happened when Sokka liked someone. Katara  _ still  _ liked to bring up how, the first time he’d met Yue, he had almost tripped headfirst into oncoming traffic. When Sokka was interested in someone, his first instinct was to be an idiot. He was pretty sure it was coded somewhere in his DNA. And now, thanks to that great reflex, Zuko probably thought he was some weird creep. 

Suddenly Sokka’s stomach dropped as he realized Zuko might have thought that Sokka had been staring at his scar. And, yeah, Sokka had noticed it, but that hadn’t been the reason he’d stared. He wasn’t a  _ complete  _ asshole. Zuko had no way of knowing that, though. No wonder he’d been so annoyed. 

Sokka almost wanted to run back into the croc store to - apologize? Or something? He didn’t know, and it would probably just make him look like even more of an idiot. Besides, he probably wouldn’t be running into Zuko all that much in the future, and, while part of him found that fact incredibly unfortunate, he would at least be spared more opportunities to make a fool out of himself. And at least he’d gotten some badass crocs out of the whole mess. 

He shook his head and turned right. Might as well stop by Jeong Jeong’s while he was there. The old man might have claimed not to want Sokka around, but Sokka knew better.

To his surprise, as he was entering the antique store, he almost bumped into an old man who was leaving it. 

“Oh, my bad,” Sokka said, moving out of the way so the old guy could pass.

The man smiled widely at him and nodded. “Thank you, young man.” Then, he paused, eyes catching on Sokka’s crocs.

“That is a wonderful color! I can tell you have excellent taste.”

_ Finally.  _ It was about time someone recognized Sokka’s exquisite fashion sense. “ _ Thank  _ you!” He beamed at the man, and noticed he too was wearing a pair of crocs. His were a pale green, accessorized with a small flower jibbitz. “Hey, yours are great too!”

The man smiled. “Such a pleasure, to meet a kindred spirit.” He nodded at Sokka again, before walking away in the direction of the croc store. Maybe wanted to buy some more jibbitz to decorate his crocs.

Feeling flattered by the old man’s compliments, Sokka entered Jeong Jeong’s store, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

“Hey Jeong Jeo- Um, Jeong Jeong?”

The shop owner was pacing back and forth in a fury, muttering angrily under his breath. Sokka could only pick out a few words: “ _ Ridiculous… Absolute disgrace… completely ruined…” _

Sokka wondered what could have upset the man this badly. 

“Jeong Jeong!”

“ _ What!? _ ” He spun violently around to face Sokka, white hair sticking up even more wildly than usual. “ _ What is it?!” _

“Hey, calm down man. I just wanted to show you my new crocs-”

“ _ OUT _ .  _ GET OUT.” _

He flailed his finger in the direction of the door. Sokka couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might have been frothing at the mouth a little.

“What? Jeez, Jeong Jeong -”

“ _ I SAID GET OUT! LEAVE, AND TAKE THOSE CURSED THINGS WITH YOU!” _

_ “Cursed?? _ Jeong Jeong, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

_ “DRAMATIC??  _ GET. OUT.”

Sokka held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

As he walked out, Jeong Jeong resumed his muttering and pacing.

“ _ Everywhere...they’re everywhere… those disgusting swamp men… that damned Iroh… everywhere…” _

“Wonder what that was about,” Sokka muttered as he stepped back out into the sweltering Florida heat. 

* * *

When Sokka got back to his house, he wasn’t surprised to find Aang, Katara, and Toph all together in the living room. Gran Gran never minded if he and Katara had their friends over, and half the time it felt like they might as well just invite them to move in, considering how often they were over already.

“Hey, Sokka, you’re back!” Aang called from where he was sitting, cross legged, on the floor. 

Toph, who was draped upside down on the sofa with her feet dangling off the back, smirked and asked, “Did he get his loser shoes?” 

“Hey! -” Sokka’s protest was cut off by Katara, who answered back,

“Yes, he did.” She levelled a disapproving look at Sokka’s crocs and shook her head. “Really Sokka? Those are hideous.” 

Toph cackled at that, and Sokka glared at his traitor of a sister. “Oh come on; these are awesome! Aang, tell her they’re awesome.”

Sokka turned to Aang expectantly - only to see Aang wince and shrug helplessly. “Umm, yeah, sure Sokka. They’re… neat?” The very obvious trepidation in his voice set Toph’s cackling off again, and Katara smirked at him smugly. 

Sokka grumbled and plopped down next to Katara on the sofa. Served him right, he guessed - he should have known better than to ask Aang to disagree with Katara.

“None of you know anything about fashion.”

“I know that those are the ugliest shoes  _ I’ve  _ ever seen,” Toph said.

“You can’t even  _ see _ ,” Sokka spluttered indignantly. 

“Exactly. That’s how you  _ know  _ they’re bad.

“Uggghhh.” Sokka threw his head back onto the sofa as Katara and Aang joined Toph’s laughter. “I hate you all. Where’s Suki?  _ She _ would agree with me.”

“Suki has taste, Sokka,” Katara replied, no small amount of derision in her tone. “She absolutely would not agree with you.”

“And she’s at practice,” Aang chirped in before Sokka and Katara could start bickering again. “Her soccer team has conditioning, remember?”

Just then, Gran Gran entered the living room. “No shoes in the house, Sokka.”

“See Snoozles, even Gran Gran hates your crocs,” Toph crowed.

Sokka grumbled, but he got up and put his shoes on the rack. 

“But it’s good you're back. Your father sent me a message; he wants to know if now is a good time to speak with you two.”

At that, all Sokka’s irritation vanished.

“Dad can call?!” Katara exclaimed, shooting up from the sofa in her excitement. 

“Yes, he says he can talk for a few minutes. He’s waiting for you to call him.” Gran Gran said, affection visible on her usually stoic face. 

With that, Sokka rushed back to the sofa, and he and Katara squeezed together so that they could both fit in frame as Sokka started the video call.

It took a moment to connect, but then - 

“Dad!”

There he was, blurry and lagging a bit, but  _ there _ , smiling the way he always did when he saw them. 

“Sokka, Katara!” His eyes crinkled up at the corners, and for a second Sokka was hit with just how much he missed him. “It’s so good to see you both.”

Hakoda was deployed with the navy, and thanks to a whole lot of bureaucratic technicalities and security concerns, Sokka and Katara weren’t always allowed to know his exact location. He hadn’t been home for nearly five months, and their opportunities to talk were few and far between. 

“Hi Mr. Hakoda Sir!” Aang called out, and Toph, still upside down, flailed one of her feet in front of the phone camera in greeting. 

“I take it your friends are over?” Hakoda asked wryly, one eyebrow raised in amusement. 

“Yeah, we’re hanging out. But how are you, dad? What have you been doing?” Katara’s eagerness was palpable, and Sokka shared it. 

“Well -” Hakoda began - but, suddenly, something occurred to Sokka, and he grinned in anticipation. 

“Wait! Dad, gimme one second!” Scrambling, he raced to grab his crocs and skidded back to the sofa, nearly knocking Katara over in his rush. “Look at my new crocs!”

He angled them so Hakoda could see them in all their croc-y glory, and,  _ finally _ , Sokka got the response he had been looking for since he entered the house. His dad grinned back at him and said, “Those are fantastic, son! They look just like the first pair I got you.”

“I know!” Sokka responded enthusiastically, as Katara dropped her face into her palm and groaned.

* * *

Sokka’s life progressed in its typical fashion for a couple of days after that, before a problem began presenting itself persistently enough that Sokka couldn’t really ignore it anymore.

The problem was that he could  _ not stop  _ thinking about going back to the croc store. 

He wasn’t even completely sure why - he had already bought one pair of crocs, and he didn’t really  _ need  _ another one… did he? But Sokka couldn’t put it out of his mind. He hadn’t been planning on returning to the croc store until he wore out his new ones, but the memory of it kept needling at him.

He went back and forth on the issue in his head until Piandao gave him his next paycheck. Sokka had covered a couple of shifts for a coworker, and he’d ended up with a little extra in his wallet which made him think… well, sure, he already had one pair of crocs, but he could always use another one. That way both of them would last longer! Plus, now that his town had a croc store, it would be a shame not to put it to use, right? After all, he wouldn’t want them to go out of business because not enough people had been buying crocs. It was an investment in future croc accessibility! 

And who knew, maybe that Zuko guy would be working again, and if Sokka got to make a second impression which made up for his sub-par first - well, that could be a happy side effect! But that wasn’t really important, because he was really just going to get another pair of crocs, and Zuko probably wouldn’t be working anyway.

* * *

Zuko was working. Just like the first time Sokka had gone to the croc store, he was the first thing Sokka noticed - though, unlike the first time, Zuko wasn’t standing behind the cash register. Today, he was dragging around a crate of shoeboxes and restocking the shelves, and apparently hadn’t heard the bell ringing as Sokka walked in. 

Okay. Sokka could do this. 

“Hey, Zuko!”

This time Zuko was the one who stumbled and nearly fell over. Whirling around to face the door, he stared at Sokka, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to widen them in shock or narrow them in suspicion. 

Sokka winced. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.” Attempting to look casual, he wandered closer to where Zuko was standing. 

Zuko’s good eye got narrower and narrower as Sokka approached, apparently having decided on suspicion. 

“...Hi. Can I help you with something?” A pause as he glanced down at Sokka’s feet, then, “You can’t return shoes you’ve already worn, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to return these! They’re great!” Paying so much attention to Zuko’s eyes had been a mistake, because now Sokka was definitely staring ( _ again _ ) and Zuko was not looking any less suspicious. Blinking hard, Sokka forced himself to  _ stop  _ staring creepily into Zuko’s eyes and to actually say what he was there for. 

“Uh, they’re actually  _ so _ great that I wanted to buy another pair! Because these puppies are just… so… great?”

“...Okay. Um. If you need any help…” And with that, Zuko awkwardly turned and walked away, apparently done restocking the shelves. 

Sokka was blushing so hard he thought he might actually catch on fire. Only the last dredges of his crumbling pride kept him from slamming his head into the racks of crocs. 

Instead, unable to help himself, he stared at Zuko as he walked away. Still no crocs, he noticed, only… fuck.

Zuko’s socks had  _ turtleducks  _ on them. 

Sokka let out an involuntary squeak, and felt his brain short circuit. 

He was completely fucking screwed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a modern au set in Florida and there is no bending and Appa is a dog but turtleducks still exist because I love them and I say so.   
> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment! They really make my day :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so much to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter! Thanks for reading :D

That boy - _Sokka_ \- was back again. Zuko had no idea how to handle that.

His clothing choices were just as… questionable… as they had been the first time, only now the Hawaiian shirt was purple and his khakis were paint-splattered, and he had entered already wearing his turquoise crocs. 

Apparently one pair of devil-shoes hadn’t been enough for him though, considering he’d just informed Zuko he wanted more. He shook his head in derision. No sane human needed _one_ pair of crocs, let alone _two_. 

Chancing a glance over the row of crocs before him, Zuko saw that Sokka was standing in front of a display of metallic crocs, apparently considering his options. At least he wasn’t humming this time. 

Zuko was at a complete and total loss as to what to make of the guy. And fine, maybe Zuko wasn’t the most knowledgeable when it came to ‘social interactions,’ but even he could tell that Sokka’s behavior was _not_ normal _._

His musings were distracted by Uncle emerging from the back office, where he’d been making some calls to their croc suppliers. (Croc suppliers. This was Zuko’s life now. Why couldn’t he have drug suppliers like normal teenagers.)

But apparently his calls were finished, and his pleased eyes swept over his store and landed on Sokka. Zuko felt a deep sense of dread at the recognition he could spot in his Uncle’s expression.

“If it isn’t my kindred spirit!” Uncle exclaimed, and Zuko wanted to jump in a hole. “Back again already?”

Sokka’s head snapped up at Uncle’s voice, and he grinned. “Hey, it’s you! Nice crocs today!” 

At that, Zuko ducked his head to hide his sudden and furious blush. He knew exactly which crocs Uncle was wearing today - they were the rainbow pride ones he had taken to wearing after Zuko came out to him. Zuko violently prayed that Uncle would not find it necessary to share that particular story with Sokka. That was the fucking last thing he needed.

It seemed the universe had decided to take pity on Zuko for once, since Uncle merely thanked Sokka in return.

Zuko glanced over at them again just in time to see confusion pass across Sokka’s face, his eyebrows scrunching together in a way Zuko refused to consider cute. “But, uh, why were you in the back? Are there more crocs there?”

Uncle laughed jovially. “No, nothing quite so amusing. I was doing paperwork.” At Sokka’s continued confusion, Uncle continued, “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly. My name is Iroh, and I am the humble owner of this store.” 

Sokka’s confusion cleared up, and he exclaimed, “My name’s Sokka. And, hey! You must be Zuko’s uncle then!”

Zuko, who had been studiously organizing the rows of shoeboxes and pretending not to listen to a word that was said, continued to do exactly that, pointedly ignoring the gazes of both Uncle and Sokka which he could feel trained on him.

“You are correct. I take it you have already met my nephew, then?”

“Uh, yeah, he sold me these crocs last time I was here.”

“And what has brought you back? I do hope you are not dissatisfied with your purchase?”

Zuko did _not_ resent the fact that Uncle was more capable of having a conversation with a boy Zuko’s age than Zuko was. He _didn’t_.

“Oh, no, no, they’re great,” Sokka replied hastily, much as he had with Zuko. “I just wanted to buy another pair.

“How excellent,” Uncle said with another warm smile. “I have some more urgent business to attend to, but I am sure my nephew will be delighted to assist you, should you need it.”

That did get Zuko to look up, and he shot a quick glare at Uncle, who merely continued smiling in response. “Isn’t that right, Zuko?”

Gritting his teeth, Zuko bit out, “Yeah. Sure.”

And with that, Uncle nodded at Sokka and went back to his office.

“ _Traitor,_ ” Zuko muttered under his breath, before resuming his organization of the shoeboxes, perhaps a bit more aggressively than was strictly called for. His attempt at single-minded focus on the task at hand, however, was not enough to keep him from noticing how Sokka was slowly but surely making his way over to Zuko. 

Maybe, Zuko thought, if he ignored him enough, he would go away, and so he proceeded to continue feigning complete ignorance of Sokka’s existence.

For a few minutes the shop was quiet, and Zuko was starting to think that maybe his plan would work for once - and then Sokka spoke. He had maneuvered his way through the store and was standing opposite Zuko, just a shelf of crocs between the two of them.

“So,” Sokka started, “Are you in high school?”

What the fuck was this guy’s obsession with asking Zuko questions?? Gritting his teeth, Zuko tersely responded, “Yes.”

Which should have been enough; he had answered the question and now Sokka had what he’d wanted. Only Sokka was still looking at him expectantly. Like he was waiting for Zuko to say something else. Zuko’s head was beginning to pound - it seemed as though headaches and Sokka went hand in hand. 

And Sokka was still waiting.

“...I’ll be a senior in the fall.”

That earned Zuko a smile, the sheer enthusiasm of which nearly blinded him.

“Hey, me too! What high school do you go to?”

Zuko was beginning to think the boy must have been allergic to not talking. He considered not answering; just turning and walking away - out of the store, away from the the strip mall, into the fucking swamp if that’s what it took to get away from that goddamn smile - only Sokka was giving him that look again. Like he wanted to know the answer.

“Omashu High”

Somehow, impossibly, Sokka’s grin got _wider_.

“That’s where I go! Weird I haven’t seen you around; I would have remembered you.”

Of course that was where Sokka went to school. Yet another reason for Zuko to dread the coming fall.

And...Right. Of course he would have remembered Zuko. Somehow the casual statement caught Zuko off guard, which was ridiculous. Like he could ever forget about his scar. About how, thanks to it, he would be difficult to forget for the rest of his life. He scowled.

“Yeah, I bet.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He wasn’t particularly successful. Sokka didn’t seem to pick up on it though, thankfully, and Zuko continued before he could. “I’m new in town. Uncle and I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Oh! Where did you live before?” Sokka leaned forward, elbows resting on stacks of shoeboxes, and Zuko’s shoulders rose in tense discomfort.

“Los Angeles.”

“Why’d you move?”

“Why do you even care?” He hadn’t meant to snap, but Zuko couldn’t understand what Sokka’s bizarre insistence on having this conversation was _about_. What did he _want_?

Still, he couldn’t help the pang of regret he felt as Sokka reddened and ran a hand through his wolf tail, coughing a bit in clear discomfort. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation.”

Wonderful. He’d finally managed to make Sokka uncomfortable. The thought wasn’t a pleasant one. 

Fighting against the blush that was threatening to flood his cheeks, Zuko turned his attention back to the shelves and waited for Sokka to turn and leave - only he didn’t. He just stayed. Kept looking at the crocs. 

He looked… disappointed. 

Only that couldn’t have been right; what did he have to be disappointed about? But… still.

“We moved because uncle got appointed to open this store.”

It was ridiculous, really. How quickly Sokka brightened up at Zuko’s response. 

Maybe he really just liked talking, regardless of who it was with.

“Oh! Well, I mean, I’m glad you guys are here now, obviously -” and wow. Sokka must have _really_ liked crocs, if he was that excited about having a store in town. Zuko wasn’t sure if that should concern him. And couldn’t he just get them online, if he wanted them that badly? “- But like, it must have sucked to have to leave behind all your friends and stuff.”

Huh. Right. Friends.

Zuko scowled again.

“Not really.”

Sokka gave him a questioning look, but Zuko pretended not to see it. For once, Sokka didn’t ask. Instead, he lifted up a shoebox containing crocs that were warm amber in color; almost golden. He grinned.

“I’ll get these ones.”

The checkout process went quickly. Sokka paid, then swapped the shoes he’d worn to the store with the ones he’d just bought, and soon Zuko was watching him walk towards the exit. 

Just like before, as he was leaving, Sokka waved to Zuko and said, “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” 

The doorbell chimed as the door swung shut behind him. 

The feeling in Zuko’s gut was _not_ disappointment.

Whatever it might have been, though, he was distracted from it by Uncle’s reentry into the main store.

Zuko greeted him with a sharp glare. “I don’t remember you having any urgent business today, Uncle,”

Uncle just chuckled, and Zuko glared harder. 

“I was certain you could have no need of my assistance, Zuko. Besides, Sokka seemed like a very nice young man. Was he able to find another pair of shoes he liked?”

“Yes.”

“Which ones did he purchase?”

Zuko looked at Uncle in exasperated confusion.

“Does it matter?”

“Sate an old man’s curiosity, nephew,” Iroh said, with a twinkle in his eye Zuko didn’t trust for one second.

Sighing, he pointed at the amber crocs on display. Somehow, that made the twinkle get worse.

“Such an interesting color choice,” Iroh mused, stroking his beard casually. 

“Not really?” Zuko had no fucking idea why everyone was acting so _weird_ today.

“They remind me a great deal of your eyes, nephew” - and. And Zuko knew that Uncle could come up with some weird ideas sometimes, but what he was suggesting now was on a whole different level of crazy. 

Zuko blushed furiously. “Stop being ridiculous, Uncle,” he snapped.

Iroh just hummed in response. 

He dropped it, at least, and Zuko resumed his work, striving to put the whole encounter out of his mind. 

It lingered, though. 

And the more it lingered, the more Zuko was forced to confront the fact that he had… enjoyed it. Talking to Sokka. It hadn't been much of a conversation, obviously, and it had been awkward and bizarre as hell, but it had also been… kind of nice. 

Fuck. This was the last thing Zuko needed, _especially_ considering he now knew that he would be going to high school with Sokka in the fall. 

But, Zuko reasoned, Omashu High was a big school, and the likelihood he’d be interacting much with Sokka there was almost zero. 

Besides, he’d already bought two pairs of crocs. There was no way he’d be coming back a third time.

* * *

Sokka came back a third time. 

And a fourth time. And a fifth. And so many more times that Zuko had begun to wonder if he had somehow ended up in the fucking twilight zone.

Every single time, Sokka wore an increasingly ridiculous combination of Khakis, Hawaiian shirts, and Crocs, and _every single time_ , he left with a brand new pair of crocs to add to his _insane_ collection. 

Zuko was losing his goddamn mind. 

Iroh was having the time of his life. 

For years, he’d bemoaned Zuko’s absolute loathing of crocs, and now he had a fellow croc enthusiast with which to conspire. He’d started to drop hints inviting Sokka to come by and play Pai Sho with him, and if that ever actually happened Zuko really was going to light himself on fire. 

The strangest part of it, though, was that Sokka talked to Zuko. Every. Single. Time. He wouldn’t stop dragging him into conversations and asking him questions and telling him things. Before long Zuko had learned that Sokka had a sister named Katara and best friends named Aang and Toph and Suki, and that Sokka worked at Trader Joe’s and wanted to be an engineer and Zuko had _no idea_ what was going on.

He kept cycling through possible explanations in his head. Was this a prank? Was Sokka a Youtuber? Was this going to end up on the trending page?? Zuko didn’t even know what a trending page _was_ \- it was just something he’d heard Ty Lee talk about a couple of times, and maybe that was the reason for all this??? 

Zuko had _no idea_ what was going on.

And the worst part of it - the part that he was just a little scared to face - was that part of Zuko didn’t care.

The worst part of it was that Sokka was gorgeous, and friendly, and kind of funny in a painfully awkward way, and so goddamn fucking bright that he almost hurt to look at. 

The worst part of it was that he kept trying to talk to Zuko - and Zuko was starting to get used to it. Starting to let himself enjoy it. Starting to want to talk back. 

The worst part of it was exactly how much Zuko would miss it when it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this update! If you did, please consider leaving a comment :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter five! We're over halfway there now; only three more chapters to go! Hope you all enjoy :D

Alright, so. Sokka might have been going to the croc store… a lot.

It was fine though! Really!

Okay, so, yes; the numbers in his bank account might have been a little bit lower than Sokka ordinarily would have liked, but it wasn’t that big of a deal! He’d picked up a couple more shifts at Trader Joe’s, and honestly, it was summer break anyway. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the free time to take on a little bit more work.

And besides, he was getting some quality crocs out of the deal, so at least he was really getting his money’s worth! With that in mind, who cared if Sokka was spending a bit more time at the croc store than the average consumer?

...Katara cared.  _ Katara _ did not share Sokka’s very reasonable opinion of the situation. Katara’s brother had purchased  _ nine _ individual pairs of crocs within a couple of  _ weeks _ . Katara was becoming  _ concerned _ . 

Sokka knew that worrying about him was one of the ways Katara showed love, but her aggressive concern over his taste in shoes seemed a little excessive. 

Case in point: Sokka and his friends were hanging out at Jamba Juice. After his and Kataras’ house, it was one of their most frequented hangouts, since it was where Aang worked and they were friends with the owner, Bumi. Bumi had complimented Sokka’s crocs - that day, they were purple with yellow lightning bolts - and Katara, who had all but issued an official declaration of war against Sokka’s crocs at that point, was glaring at him to express her pointed displeasure at Bumi encouraging Sokka’s antics.

Sokka ignored her, because he could, and thanked Bumi, because he was polite. 

After Bumi left their table, Sokka could tell Katara was about to start ranting about Sokka’s irresponsible shopping habits  _ again -  _ when thankfully Suki decided to preemptively cut her off with a story from her team’s latest practice session. 

Sokka already knew the story - Suki had told him all about it when they’d video chatted the night before - so as she talked, Sokka's thoughts circled back around to the topics that had most occupied them over the past few weeks: Zuko, and the croc store.

Aang’s Jamba Juice was actually pretty close to the White Lotus Strip Mall, Sokka mused. Well - kind of close. It was like ten,  _ maybe  _ fifteen minutes by car, and Sokka  _ had  _ a car, so that was nothing! Ten minutes was no biggie! 

And sure, Zuko pretty clearly didn’t like crocs, but - maybe he liked smoothies? Iroh probably liked smoothies too! Fostering a good relationship with your croc suppliers was important, right? It… encouraged… good customer service? And what better way to do that than by showing his gratitude with the thirst-quenching goodness of Bumi’s fruity concoctions! 

“Hey, Bumi!” Sokka shouted over to the counter. “Can I get two Cactus Juices to go?”

“Sure thing Sokka!” Bumi hollered back, before he turned and began preparing two of the definitely-not-corporate-sanctioned smoothies Sokka had helped him develop the previous summer.

“You’re leaving?” Suki asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah  _ Sokka _ , you’re leaving?” Katara’s eyebrows, contrary to Suki’s, were narrowed in blatant suspicion.

“Yeah, I’ve got a shift soon,” Sokka answered, sipping his own half-finished smoothie. Sokka, of course, should have known better than to attempt lying in front of Toph. She immediately kicked his shin, and, glaring at him, said,

“Bullshit. You don’t work on Sundays.”

Ah, fuck. 

Thinking fast, Sokka said, “Uhhh, Piandao asked me to come in because - Haru called in sick.”

Immediately, his friends all broke out into exclamations of concern. (All except Toph, who definitely knew he was lying if her smirk was anything to go by; shit. But at least she didn’t seem like she was going to call him out on it yet.)

“Wait, Haru’s sick?! Is he okay??” The worry on Aang’s face made a pang of guilt shoot through Sokka’s gut, which was not at all helped by Katara’s following declaration of,

“I should bring him some soup; do you have his address?” Her earlier suspicion was completely gone, having been utterly replaced by her mother-hen instinct.

Sokka rushed to do damage control.

“No, no, Haru’s fine! He isn’t really sick, he just… had a thing. And I’m covering for him! But he’s fine!”

Ah, and the suspicion was back. This time, from all his friends, not just Katara!

“So, who are the drinks for then?” Suki asked him skeptically. 

“Piandao! And, uh, Teo!” 

“Since when do you bring your boss and coworkers smoothies, Snoozles?” Toph was still smirking, and still very obviously not believing a word coming out of Sokka’s mouth.

Luckily, Sokka was spared having to answer her question, or any others, by Bumi calling out that his drinks were ready. 

Sokka hastily said goodbye and that he’d see them all later, then rushed to pay for his drinks and leave the store before he had to think too much about exactly why he’d just lied to his friends.

He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. 

* * *

Zuko was visibly confused when Sokka presented him with the smoothie. 

Sokka’s attempt to clarify the situation - (“Here! I brought you a smoothie!”) - Had absolutely no effect. Zuko only continued to stare dubiously at the drink, and, with a tone of voice positively dripping with bewilderment, asked, 

“ _ Why? _ ”

...Sokka, realizing both that he had no good answer to that question, and that maybe this was something he should have considered  _ before _ he shoved a large Cactus Juice into Zuko’s face, blushed. And frantically tried to come up with a reason that  _ wasn’t  _ ‘Because I thought you might like it.’

What he ended up with was: “Oh, Aang works at Jamba Juice, so Bumi gives us discounts! Here, I brought one for your uncle too!” And Sokka thrust the other smoothie into Zuko’s hand. 

There was a pause, during which Zuko continued to stare at both Sokka and his smoothies with a combination of confusion and mistrust.

Then, “...Thanks.”

Sokka beamed. “No problemo!” And he kept beaming as Zuko continued to stand motionless before him, saying and doing nothing. Beads of condensation began to drip down the plastic cup. 

Finally, Zuko slowly took a few steps in the direction of the back office.

“I’ll… take this to Uncle.” Another pause, then a hesitant, “Um - there’s going to be a sale next week.”

Sokka, somehow, managed to grin wider. Considering how quickly money was draining out of his bank account of late, a sale was a small miracle. “Hey, awesome! Thanks for letting me know!” 

Zuko scowled at him, hastily walked to the back room, and slammed the door shut, leaving Sokka to peruse the shop for his next pair of crocs. 

(Meanwhile, behind Iroh’s office door, a flustered Zuko was growing more flustered by the second.

“Uncle, we need to have a sale next week… Because Sokka was being weird! He brought me a smoothie... I was being polite! Stop laughing! Uncle! -” 

Sokka, pleasantly distracted by crocs, was completely unaware of any of this.)

Zuko remained in his uncle’s office for a while. When he exited, Sokka had already decided on his newest purchase: a pair of rainbow high platform crocs.

He was attempting not to overthink the choice. 

So what if Zuko knew he was gay! Well, bi, technically, but - so what if Zuko knew he was into guys! Sokka was out, and he wasn’t exactly subtle about it. Besides, Iroh had been wearing pride crocs the second time Sokka had visited the store, so… that might have meant… something? 

Whatever, Sokka wanted the shoes and he was going to get them, and if Zuko happened to let it slip that he owned his own pair of rainbow - well, not crocs, but… sneakers? Rainbow dress shoes? Gay things; if Zuko told Sokka he was gay, then. Well. Then Sokka would know that. 

Zuko did not tell Sokka he was gay.

Zuko didn’t react to the shoes at all. Sokka reminded himself it didn’t matter, and tried not to appear visibly disappointed. 

At least the sale Zuko had mentioned would give him an excuse to return the next week.

* * *

The week after, during a shift that was real and not one that Sokka had made up, he was busy stocking shelves in the produce aisle when Piandao came by to check on him. 

Just as his boss was about to walk off, he paused and said, “You certainly seem to own a lot of crocs, Sokka.”

Absently, Sokka responded, “Yeah, there’s a great new croc store in town. I’ve bought… a few.” 

Ten crocs could be considered a few, right?

Piandao was looking at Sokka with his calculating expression. It was the one he gave him when he knew Sokka had been stealing the free samples.

“Is that the one Iroh owns?”

Sokka looked at him in surprise. 

“Yeah, actually. How did you know -”

“Oh, Iroh’s an old friend.”

Sokka was just about to ask why it was that all the old people he knew seemed to also know each other, when Piandao continued,

“His nephew works there, if I’m not mistaken?”

Sokka ran a hand through his wolf tail and absolutely did not blush.

“Uh, yeah. Zuko. You know him too?”

“Hmm,” Piandao said, still observing Sokka with his calculating stare. Then he walked away. Old guys were  _ weird _ .

* * *

It wasn’t until the end of his shift that Sokka thought about Zuko or his uncle again. 

He was walking towards the exit when he passed the store’s floral display and noticed they were having a sale on bouquets. 

...Well, he did have his employee discount after all. And Iroh  _ did  _ strike him as the sort of man who would appreciate a nice floral arrangement...

* * *

By the end of the week, Sokka owned fifteen pairs of crocs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a doozy, mostly because group dialogue scenes are the devil! I hope you all enjoyed the fruits of my labor XD  
>  If you did, please remember to leave feedback!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the lovely comments and kudos! Hope you all enjoy this chapter (fair warning; this one's soft)

Zuko was having a bad day. 

That wasn’t particularly uncommon; Zuko had a lot of bad days. They were to be expected when you worked in a fucking croc store. But today was… worse.

Zuko figured that was to be expected too - most people would probably consider the anniversary of their father shoving their face into a lit kitchen stove a pretty bad fucking day. 

Knowing why the day was shit didn’t make it any better. 

Uncle had been tiptoeing around him all week, somehow managing to be even _more_ patient and understanding than usual, and he’d insisted on Zuko taking the day off. While Zuko was grateful for any opportunity to spend less time in the croc store, he was less thrilled by Uncle’s insistence that he spend his day off with his therapist. 

The therapy had been Uncle’s idea. When Zuko had first started living with him three years ago, one of the first things he’d done was to find Zuko a therapist, despite Zuko’s many protests that he didn’t need it. Zuko had been fine, and he could deal with his shit by himself, and Uncle had been a manager at a croc store who’d found himself stuck with a completely unplanned fourteen-year-old. He shouldn’t have been wasting his money on therapy that Zuko _didn’t need._ Uncle had calmly listened to every single one of Zuko’s complaints, and then continued driving him to his weekly appointments. And Zuko would have fought more, but - Uncle had wanted him to go. And whenever Zuko brought up stopping, or tried to insist he’d be fine without it - Uncle had always looked so _concerned_ . No one had been _concerned_ about Zuko for a while. So Zuko had gone, and Uncle had been pleased, and when they’d decided to move to Florida, Uncle had researched a list of a dozen prospective therapists in the area before he’d even started looking for a house. 

And the therapy… helped.

Zuko had _hated_ it at first; hated the feeling of being scrutinized and hated being expected to _talk_ about himself and his issues and all the fucked up ways he felt to a total stranger and hated remembering things he’d rather forget. 

Hated thinking about the look in his father’s eyes and how Azula had watched and done nothing (and what _could_ she have done anyway?) 

At first, Zuko had _hated_ it. 

But then it had gotten better. And eventually Zuko could be in the kitchen while Uncle cooked without flinching, and he didn’t have a panic attack every time Uncle met with lawyers to discuss prosecuting Ozai for child abuse, and he could start to acknowledge that maybe his fucked up childhood hadn’t actually been his fault.

So yeah, the therapy had helped - but it was still expensive, and an additional session in the middle of the week wasn’t necessary, regardless of what day it was.

But Uncle had wanted him to go, so he’d gone.

As he walked out of his therapist’s office with red rimmed eyes and a head full of memories, Zuko thought that however _helpful_ therapy might be, it was still fucking hard. 

The trip back to the croc store, where Zuko was meant to meet Uncle before heading home, wasn’t quite long enough for Zuko to fully recover from spending an hour sorting through his emotional baggage, so he was still a little distracted when he entered the store. 

He was not, however, so distracted that he failed to realize that Uncle was not alone in the shop. Zuko froze in the doorway and stared at Uncle, sitting at the Pai Sho table he’d insisted on placing at the back of the store, sipping tea across from… Sokka.

Sokka, who also had a cup of tea, and who was clearly in the middle of a game of Pai Sho with Uncle, and who apparently fucking lived in their store now?? 

Why the _fuck_ was he always there? How many fucking _crocs_ did he _need_??

The chime of the doorbell had alerted both Iroh and Sokka to Zuko’s arrival, and they turned towards him, smiling. 

And - oh shit; Zuko’s eyes were probably still red and he’d been gone all day and Sokka was going to ask him questions he didn’t want to answer - questions that would end with him pitying Zuko or thinking he was pathetic or probably both. 

Zuko braced himself for the onslaught - but it never came. Either Sokka hadn’t noticed anything amiss or he was pretending he hadn’t. Either way, he just grinned and said, 

“Hey Zuko! Uncle’s been kicking my ass at Pai Sho!”

And… _‘Uncle?’_ Since when did Sokka call Uncle… _uncle_?

Zuko, still disoriented and completely unprepared to deal with the boy who may or may not have been stalking his uncle, remained frozen at the entrance to the store and said nothing.

Uncle broke the silence. “Welcome back, nephew. How did your errand go?”

Zuko, both embarrassed by the question and desperately grateful for Uncle’s discretion, blushed and muttered, “Fine.” He would have preferred to leave it at that, but there was such open concern and affection on Uncle’s face that he felt he had to add, as sincerely as he could manage, “It went well, Uncle.”

The sheer happiness that flooded Uncle’s face after that statement twisted something deep in Zuko’s heart.

“I am glad to hear it.” Then, thankfully, he changed the subject. “Do come join us, Zuko,” he said, and poured another cup of tea. Hesitantly, Zuko sat down at the Pai Sho table and attempted to avoid eye contact with Sokka. 

And then Uncle decided to heartlessly betray him.

“I am afraid I must ask the two of you to excuse me - I have some work to take care of in the office. But please, relax and enjoy your tea!” 

And then he was gone, and Zuko was alone, sitting across from Sokka with only some Pai Sho tiles between them. 

Sokka’s Hawaiian shirt was hot pink and yellow, this time. Zuko clutched his teacup tightly and tried to tell himself his blush was because of the summer heat.

Any second, Sokka would get up and go look for his next pair of crocs, and Zuko would be able to breathe again.

Zuko waited, but Sokka didn’t get up. In fact, he looked as though he was perfectly content to keep sitting there, holding a cup of tea in one hand and fiddling with a Pai Sho tile in the other. 

They were both quiet for a while - only it wasn’t the expectant kind of quiet Zuko was used to. It was a quiet that didn’t _want_ anything from him. 

The two boys sat and sipped their tea, and against all odds, Zuko found himself relaxing. 

When the silence did break, it did so gently, like the dawn. 

“Your Uncle makes the _best_ tea.”

Zuko chuckled, a smile nestling into the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, he does.” And suddenly Zuko wanted Sokka to know the rest of it. “You, know, he used to own a tea shop.”

Sokka’s eyes widened and he leaned forward in interest.

“Seriously? Damn, that sounds perfect. Why’d he stop?”

Zuko’s expression flattened back out at the memory. He shrugged.

“The economy crashed. He went out of business. And then… well, his son died. Lu Ten.”

Sokka’s eyes were trained on Zuko, and there were still no demands in his silence. Zuko kept talking.

“He was in the army; died in combat.”

“I’m sorry.” 

And Zuko believed him.

He shrugged again.

“Lu Ten was everything to Uncle. It took him… a long time. To be himself again. And by the time he did, the shop was gone and there was no getting it back.” Zuko sipped his tea to give his hands something to do. “He always wanted to open a new tea shop, but...” But he’d taken in Zuko instead, and poured all his savings into trying to get Ozai sent to prison. “...It never worked out.”

Zuko had never seen Sokka look this serious before.

“Maybe it still will, one day. But… I don’t know. Gran Gran always tells us the only thing we can expect from life is that it’ll never be what we expected. I guess sometimes you don’t end up with a tea shop. Sometimes you open a croc store instead.” A faint smile settled on Sokka’s face. “Your uncle still seems happy. And he still makes other people happy. Maybe that’s more important.”

Sokka’s eyes were piercing, and Zuko didn’t want to look away.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

The air between them was a storm and it burned. Neither boy moved an inch, and, to Zuko’s surprise, he found he could breathe just fine.

The silence was just beginning to pound in Zuko’s ears when Sokka broke it again - abruptly, this time, like being startled awake.

“Oh, hey! Before I forget.” Sokka ruffled through his fanny pack - (he was wearing a goddamn _fanny pack_ and the weight of the conversation they’d just had was a hot stone in Zuko’s gut and Zuko wanted to die) - and proudly pulled out what Zuko realized was a small refrigerator magnet. In the shape of a turtleduck. With a dramatic flourish, Sokka held it out to him.

Zuko didn’t understand what was happening. His confusion must have been evident, because Sokka rushed to clarify.

“It’s for you! We got a shipment in at work yesterday, and I remembered you… um, you wear those socks sometimes? With the turtleducks on them?” 

Zuko was not getting choked up. He was not. He was not going to cry over a turtleduck magnet.

“You didn’t have to - ”

“-Oh, it’s not a big deal; I just get an employee discount and I thought… you might like one.”

Sokka, who until tonight had only ever been brash and loud and utterly confident, looked hesitant. 

Sokka had noticed that Zuko liked turtleducks.

Zuko very slowly took the magnet and did not look away.

“...Uh. Thanks.”

Sokka grinned at him. He grinned ridiculously fucking wide and looked at Zuko like he’d just cured cancer or won gold at the Olympics and Zuko’s heart _ached_.

“No problem! What are friends for?”

…They were friends? 

Zuko swallowed and smiled tentatively at Sokka and felt warmer than the sun.

* * *

The crocs Sokka decided on that day were as horribly neon as his shirt, and Zuko stood behind the checkout counter and tried not to smile.

“These are horrific.”

Sokka sniffed dramatically and pantomimed offence. 

“At least Uncle appreciates my taste.”

And there was the Uncle thing again. Zuko was kind of surprised by how little it bothered him. 

“You two are the only people on the planet delusional enough to think those look good.”

…Zuko wondered if maybe he should stop making fun of Sokka. Normally people didn’t like being insulted - normally that made them go away. Zuko… didn’t want Sokka to go away. And wasn’t that a terrifying thought. 

But Sokka just laughed, and his impossibly blue eyes sparkled whenever Zuko insulted him, and he didn’t make _any_ sense. That also should have bothered Zuko more than it did.

Maybe he had a head injury?

Sokka was grinning. If he did have a head injury, Zuko decided he didn’t really care.

“Nah, my dad would love them if he could see them.”

…Ah. Well, that was one way to kill Zuko’s good mood. His face must have been doing something strange, because Sokka hastily backtracked. Frantically waving his hands, Sokka said,

“Hah, I phrased that weird; he’s not dead!” The declaration came out a bit louder than necessary, and Zuko continued to stare uncertainly at him. 

Sokka, clearly uncomfortable, cleared his throat and chuckled awkwardly. 

“Uh, he’s in the navy. So he’s away a lot. He calls whenever he can, but we don’t always know exactly where he is.”

“Oh.”

Zuko had no idea what to do with that information. Why was Sokka telling him any of this? Was… was it to get another discount? But - no. He _had_ said they were friends. Maybe this was friendship. 

“That’s rough, buddy.” 

And maybe this was hell. _That’s rough, buddy??_ Zuko wanted to spontaneously combust. 

Sokka just smiled sadly and fiddled with his wallet. “Hah, yeah. I mean, I miss him, of course. But I think… I don’t know, I think maybe after Mom died it was kind of hard for him to be here.”

“My mom died too.” Zuko’s voice was very quiet, and half of him was surprised at what had just come out of his mouth. He never talked about his mom. “It’s… hard. When they’re gone.”

Sokka looked straight into him, and understood. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Zuko told Sokka his crocs were on the house.

* * *

Later, when Zuko and Iroh got home, he awkwardly lurked around the kitchen for a good five minutes before finally attempting to casually put the turtleduck magnet on the fridge.

Once it was up there, Zuko kind of… froze. He stared at it for a moment - at the small, cartoon animal floating in the corner of the refrigerator door - and found he could not tear his eyes away.

…Zuko was being ridiculous. 

He yanked a hand through his hair, scowled at himself, and hastily exited the kitchen, stomping upstairs to his room.

Iroh, who had been pretending not to watch Zuko throughout his miniature crisis, chuckled at the sound of Zuko’s door slamming shut. Sipping his tea, he directed a small, incredibly fond smile at the little magnet.

Safe in the privacy of his own room, Zuko lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. As the minutes passed and the tension he carried began to ease, he couldn’t quite prevent his face from forming a small, fond smile of its own. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad day, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka: offers wise and empathetic advice and comfort  
> Also Sokka: wears neon crocs and a fanny pack  
> The duality (read: bisexuality) of man
> 
> This chapter, and particularly the conversation at the Pai Sho table, is I think my favorite part of this whole story. There's one line I'm particularly proud of and I almost can't believe I wrote it for an atla crocverse fanfic. I'm not mad about it though XD  
> Also! Appearance #2 of the turtleducks. Because, come on, I'm not going to write an atla fic and only include them once. (Whether or not I'm going to write an atla fic and only include them twice remains to be seen.)
> 
> And final note: Yes Ursa is actually dead in this universe. I planned out an extremely detailed outline of Zuko's crocverse backstory before deciding it wasn't actually relevant enough to be included in this fic without completely derailing the story. If any of you do want to know more about Zuko's life BC (Before Crocs), feel free to let me know and maybe I'll put it in another end note or something. 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading, and if you enjoyed this chapter, please leave feedback! Comments genuinely make my whole week <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter!! Thanks for reading :D

Sokka hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Zuko. 

Alright, so that had been pretty fucking common as of late. But this time, there was an actual reason for it that wasn’t just ‘oh no oh shit he’s pretty.”

Sokka hadn’t been able to stop thinking of his last trip to the croc store. 

He’d been disappointed when he’d entered the shop and found that Zuko was noticeably absent. Zuko had been there every other time Sokka visited, and he’d begun to consider his presence inevitable. Apparently, he’d been wrong, since all he found upon entering the croc store that day was Iroh, sorting through boxes and quietly singing along to the radio.

It had been immediately obvious that his heart wasn’t in it. 

Sokka had tried not to let his disappointment at only encountering Iroh show - though he was pretty sure the man had seen right through him. Fuck. Iroh _definitely_ knew Sokka hadn’t just been coming by for the crocs. 

Thankfully, he hadn’t called Sokka out on it; just kindly informed him that Zuko wasn’t around at the moment.

Something about the way he’d said it had worried Sokka, and he’d asked Iroh if everything was alright. Iroh had responded by asking Sokka to stay for a cup of tea and a game of Pai Sho, and, because Sokka’s parents hadn’t raised an asshole, he’d found himself seated at a low table at the back of the shop, sipping some insanely good tea and listening to Iroh explain the game’s rules.

After Iroh had soundly defeated him twice, Sokka had asked again if everything was alright with Zuko. 

Iroh had looked at him gravely and sighed.

“Today is a difficult day for Zuko,” he had said, setting up the board for a new game. “It brings back some painful memories.”

And that had just made Sokka more curious. It had been obvious that Uncle - (and that had been another weird development: when did Sokka start thinking of him as Uncle?) - had clearly left out a whole shit ton of details, but Sokka hadn’t wanted to push. He had started to wonder though, and… well, he never had figured out how Zuko had gotten that scar. He hadn’t asked; it wasn’t any of his business, but with the way Uncle had been talking… out of all the painful memories Zuko had, Sokka had to guess that story was pretty high up on the list. 

And then Zuko had gotten back from wherever he was (and wherever he’d been, he’d _clearly_ been crying), and then they’d just… talked. For a long time. Sokka had even told Zuko about his _dad_ , and he didn’t even talk to _Katara_ about half the stuff he’d shared with Zuko. But Zuko had told Sokka things too. And talking to him had just felt _right_. 

And then Sokka had gone home and stayed awake thinking about all the things he and Zuko had said, and all the things they hadn’t, and he’d spent the whole next day with thoughts of Zuko taking up all the room in his head.

He hadn’t been ready to deal with a lot of what he’d been thinking. There _was_ , however, one aspect of Zuko’s life which had been making itself more and more obvious as Sokka got to know him, which Sokka was equipped to do something about. 

And that thing was… Zuko didn’t have many friends. By which Sokka meant that Zuko didn’t seem to have _any_ friends, other than Sokka himself. Or, at least, Zuko _hadn’t_ had any other friends. But that was just because Sokka hadn’t fixed that yet. 

When Sokka had gone back to the croc shop the next day, he’d brought four teenagers with varying degrees of enthusiasm along with him. 

Sokka had been more relieved than he’d have liked to admit to see Zuko inside the shop when he entered. Zuko had seemed completely unprepared to handle the sudden appearance of Sokka and Company barging into his croc store. 

Zuko had been even less prepared for Sokka’s friends to immediately adopt him. 

At first, Sokka had been worried that he’d overstepped. Then, Toph had punched Zuko in the arm, as she was wont to do, and Zuko had responded by turning a bright shade of red and reflexively punching her right back. Toph had punched him again, _harder_ , and then latched onto Zuko’s side and refused to let go, all while completely ignoring his bewildered splutters and awkwardly flailing limbs. Aang had asked a bemused Zuko for his phone number and added him to their group chat, Suki had bonded with him over martial arts, and Katara had listened to Zuko insult Sokka’s crocs once and immediately designated him her replacement brother. 

Sokka had still been a little worried that Zuko was uncomfortable with their enthusiasm, until Aang said he had to leave for a shift and they’d invited Zuko to hang out at Jamba Juice with them. 

Zuko had agreed, with a quiet voice and hesitant smile, and just like that, he slid perfectly into place. 

Before they’d left, Sokka had bought another pair of crocs.

He now owned twenty pairs.

* * *

A week and five crocs after that, the intervention happened. 

And alright, maybe Sokka had kind of needed it after all.

* * *

Sokka was in front of the croc store.

He had been standing there, pacing back and forth and not entering, for the past five minutes. 

Sokka really hoped Iroh didn’t have security cameras outside the store. Well, no, alright, he probably should have security cameras, for security reasons, but Sokka really hoped that if he had them, they were currently malfunctioning. Sokka did not need anyone bearing witness to his nervous breakdown.

The cause of said breakdown was a simple one: he was going to do it. He was going to suck it up and ask Zuko out. 

He had to, if only because he physically could not fit another pair of crocs into his closet, and Katara would actually murder him if he tried to store some in hers. 

...But mostly because he really wanted to date Zuko. So badly. Oh god. Oh shit.

Sokka continued pacing.

He could do this! It was fine! He was even wearing his pride crocs for good luck! He was _not_ panicking!

Besides. The worst that could happen was that Zuko would ban Sokka from ever returning to the croc store, and Sokka _really_ didn’t need any more crocs. So it would be fine! (He also wouldn’t ever be able to talk to Zuko again, and that was decidedly less fine, but Sokka was not going to think about that or he would continue pacing outside the croc store until the end of time.)

But it was fine, because Sokka had a plan! Of course he had a plan; he was the plan guy! 

His plan was this: 

Step 1 - Enter the croc store. This was proving to be more difficult than he had anticipated.

Step 2 - Find Zuko. This would hopefully be easier than step 1.

Step 3 - …

Step 4 - Date Zuko. 

Okay so it wasn’t a very thorough plan. And Sokka had no idea what he was doing. And maybe he really could just keep pacing outside of the croc store for the rest of his life and that would be just fine.

Sokka’s phone buzzed, and he checked it to see a text from Zuko himself.

_Are you going to come in, or…?_

Ah. Right, of course. Windows. 

Sokka was going to throw himself into the sea. 

Well, he’d already embarrassed the hell out of himself; if this was going to go badly he might as well just do it now.

Sokka stopped pacing. He took a deep breath. And he entered the croc store.

* * *

Zuko smiled hesitantly at him when he entered.

Fuck.

“Um, is everything alright?” Zuko asked, clearly confused as to why Sokka had been pacing in front of the croc store like an idiot. 

Sokka attempted to laugh it off. “Oh yeah! Yeah, I was just, um, trying to reach my step goal…? Gotta stay active!”

Sokka silently thanked whatever power had gifted him with the ability to come up with such excellent cover stories on the fly. 

Zuko just nodded and said nothing. 

Okay. Sokka took another deep breath. He could do this.

“So, uh, Zuko; I was wondering if, uh, if...”

Zuko was looking straight at him with his ridiculous fucking eyes and Sokka couldn’t breathe. 

_Please._

“Sokka? Is everything alrigh-”

“-Do you want to do an activity? With me? Sometime?” 

Sokka was going to _throw himself_ into the _sea_. 

Zuko blinked and a flush crept into his cheeks. He coughed lightly.

“What, like, with Aang and Katara and everyone?”

“Um, no, I was thinking we could do something... together. Just the two of us.” 

Sokka’s own cheeks were burning, and he was ridiculously grateful that his blushing was partly masked by his dark skin. Zuko, who was also blushing, and whose skin was as pale as cream, did not have a similar advantage. 

“Um, sure.”

And… wait. Zuko had said yes. He said yes! Or, technically, he said, “sure,” but that was still agreement! Sokka’s heart was pounding and his face felt like it was going to split from the force of his grin. 

“Yeah?”

“...Yea-”

“Yes!” And… that wasn’t Zuko’s voice. Wait - oh shit. How had Sokka not noticed that Iroh was _in the store._ And had apparently just witnessed Sokka’s fumbling attempts to ask out his nephew. And was walking over to them and putting his arm around Zuko, whose face was now attempting to rival the color of a fire truck.

“ _Uncle-_ ”

“What a wonderful idea!” Iroh’s grin was as broad and round as the rest of him. “Here,” he said, thrusting a plastic card at Sokka, “why don’t you take this gift card! That two of you will have an _excellent_ time!”

And despite how nervous he’d been before he’d entered the store, and despite the anxiety still buzzing through his bones, Sokka really hoped he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Next week's chapter will be the last - our crocverse journey is almost at its end.  
> As always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is. The last installment in the crocverse.  
> Hope you all enjoy <3

Zuko was going to lose it. 

His date with Sokka was in twenty minutes, and he had no idea what he was going to wear. 

He also had no idea if it was actually a date. 

Zuko’s date and/or platonic-buddy-hangout was in twenty minutes, and he was losing it. 

He just _didn’t know._ He _couldn’t figure it out._

All Zuko knew was that in the weeks since they’d opened the store, Sokka had purchased _twenty-five_ individual pairs of crocs, and he’d kept coming and talking to Zuko, and he’d brought a smoothie for him and flowers for Uncle. He’d baked them _cookies_ once? And they had been _completely_ inedible, so then he’d bought them cookies that _were_ edible as an apology for almost poisoning Iroh, who had taken a bite of the cookies to be polite. And then he had bought Zuko a _turtleduck magnet_ , and Zuko had told him about his _mother_ , and they were apparently _friends_??

And now Sokka wanted to hang out and Uncle had strong-armed them into taking his Olive Garden gift card and Sokka was supposed to pick Zuko up in _eighteen_ minutes, now, and Zuko still had no idea what this was supposed to be or what he was going to wear and he was _losing it_.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it.

Zuko grabbed a decently nice button down and some black jeans from his closet and shoved them on. 

It was probably just a casual hangout anyway. So it didn’t actually matter. This was fine.

(Zuko was _not_ going to wear _crocs._ )

Zuko quickly finished getting ready and went downstairs to wait - only to immediately be ambushed by Uncle, who shoved him into a chair and started attacking his hair with a comb and an ocean’s worth of gel. 

Zuko attempted to fight him off - 

(“Stop it, Uncle!! Why are you using so much gel!!”

“It’s hurricane season, nephew -”

“There’s not going to be a hurricane!!”

“- And it would be such a pity if some bad winds interfered with your dat-” 

“It’s _not_ a _date!_ ”)

\- and decidedly failed. Eventually he gave up and just let Iroh do what he wanted. After all, since this almost certainly probably _wasn’t_ a date, it didn’t really matter what Zuko’s hair looked like.

Uncle was just finishing up drowning Zuko’s head in gel when the doorbell rang.

Zuko, scowling while his heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings, went to answer it. 

Sokka was wearing an ocean themed Hawaiian shirt louder than any Zuko had ever seen, khakis with painted-on daisies, and glittery high-top rainbow crocs.

Any lingering concerns Zuko might have felt about his own outfit died out immediately. In retrospect, he really should have realized it wasn’t _his_ clothing choices he’d needed to be concerned about.

Despite the horrendous clothing, Sokka was still the most beautiful fucking thing Zuko had ever seen. He kind of wanted to punch him in the face for it. He wanted to kiss him more.

Zuko, exercising a truly remarkable amount of restraint, did neither, and just flatly said, “You’re wearing crocs.”

Sokka’s grin was doing truly awful, illegal, terrible things to Zuko’s heart. 

“Rainbow ones!” Sokka replied, as if the glittery rainbow monstrosities on his feet wouldn’t have been visible from space. 

(Though… the crocs _were_ rainbow colored. Sokka had to know how that could be taken, right? _Right??_ ...Or maybe Sokka was wearing them in the no-homo sense. Or in the supportive ally sense. Zuko shouldn’t be making assumptions.)

“...Right.”

Sokka’s eyes kept drifting to the top of Zuko’s head. 

“Um… your hair is really… firm?”

Zuko scowled and tried not to blush, then ran his hand through his ‘firm’ hair until it was a little less pasted down.

“Uncle did it,” he muttered, which made Sokka laugh. 

“Have a good night you two!” Uncle called from inside the house. “I am sure you will have a lovely date -”

“ _Uncle -_ ” Zuko hissed, but Sokka just called back, “Thanks Uncle!” and grinned at Zuko again.

Sokka was polite. It was rude to correct your elders. 

The two of them walked to Sokka’s car, and Sokka jogged to open Zuko’s door for him. At Zuko’s raised eyebrow, he dramatically bowed and ushered Zuko in. It did _not_ make Zuko smile.

The sun had started to set by the time they got to the Olive Garden. The whole street was flushed in golden light, and Sokka was glowing in it. 

Zuko still didn’t know whether or not this was a date. But _God_ how he wanted - so much that it ached.

The host that greeted them when they entered the restaurant allowed their gaze to linger on Sokka’s outfit for a solitary beat longer than usual, said nothing, and led them to their table. 

(The host used to work night shifts at Denny’s. Sokka’s disaster wardrobe was _nothing_.)

The two of them sat, and Sokka grinned at Zuko. Zuko, despite his nerves, smiled back.

“So it was really nice of your Uncle to give us his gift card.”

It had been nice of Uncle. It had also been incredibly convenient, since Uncle never went to Olive Garden and had no reason to have had a gift card in the first place. Zuko had a suspicion that Uncle would have given them the gift card even if Sokka hadn’t asked Zuko to hang out. 

He doesn’t mention that to Sokka.

“Yeah, it was.”

“He really cares about you, huh?”

Zuko ducked his head, embarrassed. Sokka rushed to add:

“Sorry! Sorry; didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

“It’s alright.” And it was. There were worse things Sokka could ask about than Uncle. “Um, yeah. Yeah, he does. He’s given up a lot for me.”

Sokka looked like he knew what Zuko meant by that. Zuko didn’t know if he should be concerned by how easily the other boy could read him. 

“I doubt he sees it that way. He loves you.” And then, as though he knew exactly when to stop pushing, Sokka grinned and said, “Though, maybe not as much as he loves crocs.”

Zuko groaned and slammed his forehead into his palm. Sokka cackled, and the joy of it was infectious. Zuko was grinning when he looked back up at him.

“The two of you deserve each other.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Zuko would never have said it, but he had meant it as one. 

The dinner was easier than Zuko had expected. He had forgotten, in his anxious uncertainty, that the whole reason for his nerves was that he _liked_ Sokka. He liked his company. He liked sitting with him in a booth at Olive Garden and watching as he tried to stuff breadsticks into his fanny pack. 

(“Wait, you know Jeong Jeong too!?” 

“Yeah, he hates us; Uncle keeps antagonizing him with his crocs. How do you know him?”

“ _I_ keep antagonizing him with _my_ crocs! He’s banned me from his store like thirty times !”

…

“What’s the longest you’ve ever held your breath?”

“...Why?”

“I dunno; I’m just curious.”

“...Like, fifteen minutes?”

“...What.”

“I was in a cave once and I followed some seals through a tunnel underwater.”

“... _What._ ”

…

“And that’s _nothing_ compared to the time Katara roped us into breaking into this factory that was polluting a river to destroy all their machines and - I’m _not_ making this up!”

…)

For once, conversation was simple.

* * *

They ended up staying and talking longer than Zuko had expected. By the time they’d paid and left the restaurant, dusk had long since fallen.

It was hot, the way Florida always was in the summertime, but there was a pleasant breeze cutting through the muggy air. 

The two boys slowly wandered in the direction of Sokka’s car, but neither were willing to end the night just yet.

“There’s a park near here. Do you want to walk in it a little?” Sokka’s smile was almost shy. “It’s a nice night.”

“Yeah.” Zuko’s voice was even hoarser than usual. “It is.”

* * *

There was no one else in the park. A full moon hung in the darkening sky, and it painted the trees silver.

Sokka’s hands were shoved in his pockets, but his shoulders kept brushing against Zuko as they walked, almost pressed up against each other.

Zuko’s heart was pounding and his brain was breaking and he didn’t care. He breathed in the cool air and the quiet night and the feeling of Sokka at his side

A little ways down the path they had been following, they reached a small pond. A family of turtleducks swam gracefully across its surface. In wordless agreement, Zuko and Sokka sat on the pond’s bank to watch them. 

Neither of them made a sound, and all that could be heard were the soft, gentle sounds of dusk. 

There was a fragile sort of tension in the air. Zuko could feel it swelling around them.

Then Sokka put his hand on Zuko’s. He turned his head and was trapped in Sokka’s impossibly blue eyes.

Sokka was leaning towards him, and Zuko didn’t move an inch.

So slowly; so gently, Sokka reached up to brush a strand of hair out of Zuko’s eyes. 

He was smiling a quiet, gorgeous sort of smile.

There was a rushing in Zuko’s ears and a storm in his chest and - 

“ _Is this a date?”_

Their quiet, peaceful bubble _shattered_.

Sokka blanched.

“Uhhhh… yes? Did… did you think it _wasn’t_??” 

Zuko felt heat flooding his cheeks.

Shit. Oh no. Oh no. What had he just done.

“I - I wasn’t sure -”

“Dude, how the hell -”

“It wasn’t clear!! You asked if I wanted to do an activity!!” Mortification was crawling over Zuko’s skin. Sokka was staring at him, stunned and bewildered, and both boys kind of wanted to cease existing. 

“Yeah!! Alone! As in just us!! As in on a date!!”

“Friends hang out alone sometimes!” Zuko cried, desperately grasping at straws.

“But I wore my fancy clothes!! How could you not _tell?!_ ”

And Zuko… Zuko really didn’t know how to respond to that. So he didn’t, and the two just sat there in mortified silence. 

Then a wave of genuine panic rushed over Sokka’s face. 

“Wait - shit did you _not_ want to go out on a date? Oh shit did I just read this whole thing completely wrong -” He looked utterly crushed. “Oh fuck - oh no; dude I’m so sorry -”

But Zuko had to cut him off, because blinding hope was starting to overpower his embarrassed panic.

“Wait - so you _did_ want this to be a date?”

Sokka froze, his momentary panic starting to recede at whatever he saw in Zuko’s face.

“Umm. Yes? Really obviously? I’ve been flirting with you for like two months so - definitely yes?”

“Oh.” But then - “Wha - you haven’t been flirting with me!! When did you flirt with me??”

Sokka had stopped looking panicked. Now he just looked like he couldn’t quite grasp Zuko’s stupidity. Zuko wasn’t sure if he was happy about the change.

“Zuko, I’ve literally only been going to the croc store to talk to you.”

…

What.

_What??_

“Dude, even _I_ don’t need twenty-five pairs of crocs.”

Zuko didn’t know what to do with that information.

“I -”

Thankfully, Sokka cut him off before he had to think of an ending to that sentence.

“Okay, wait.” 

Sokka was smiling again. Zuko’s throat went dry for reasons completely unrelated to embarrassment. 

“So, do you _want_ this to be a date?”

Zuko’s face was burning. Sokka leaned forward and grinned. 

“Because _I_ want this to be a date.”

And that was - well. That cleared things up then.

“So do I,” Zuko muttered. 

Sokka grinned wider. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um.” And since Zuko had already made a complete and utter fool of himself, a little more embarrassment couldn’t possibly hurt. “I like you. Um. A lot.”

He had been wrong. A little more embarrassment could _absolutely_ hurt.

But then Sokka was smiling at him so happily and maybe it didn’t actually matter.

“We’re both so stupid,” Sokka said, like it was the best thing in the world. 

Still trying to save some degree of face, Zuko protested, “You _weren’t clear_ -” But it was a weak attempt, and he knew it. 

“ _Twenty-five crocs_ , Zuko.’

“...Shut up.”

“My friends held an _intervention_ -”

And, sitting there by the turtleducks in the light of the full moon, Zuko couldn’t take another second. So with his heart in his throat and his eyes on Sokka’s, he said, “Shut up and kiss me, you asshole.”

Sokka shut up.

* * *

When Zuko finally made his way home, Uncle was waiting with tea in the living room. 

“How was your date, nephew?”

Zuko glared at him on principle.

“...It was nice.” A pause. He mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that, nephew?”

“I _said_ we’re going out again next Friday.”

Uncle radiated smugness, and did not try even a little to hide it. 

“I am very pleased for you both. Young Sokka is an exemplary young man.” 

Zuko couldn’t help smiling a little at that.

“Yeah… yeah, he is.”

And then Uncle grinned, and Zuko was hit with a wave of foreboding. 

“And handsome, too.”

“Uncle.”

“And with such wonderful taste in fashion!”

“ _Uncle!”_

Uncle just laughed. After a second, Zuko gave in and smiled.

He couldn’t help it - it had been a nice night.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright time for my ridiculous mushy author's note.  
> This story exists because a ridiculous tumblr headcanon burrowed its way into my brain and wouldn't leave until I put it on paper - or, technically, on a google doc. I've been calling it my serotonin project from the start, and it has truly brought me nothing but joy. I hope that along the way, it's brought some joy to you as well.  
> A heartfelt thanks to all of you who have been following this story. To those of you who have left comments, and especially those who have left them on literally ever chapter, thank you thank you thank you. You don't know how much it means to me.  
> I'm planning on adding another chapter with some tidbits from my outline and brainstorming process that didn't make it into the actual story, but for all intents and purposes, my little contribution to the crocverse has come to an end.  
> I hope you enjoyed the ride, and thank you, as always, for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Outtakes!

As a special treat, here’s some extra little tidbits from my planning and outlining stages of writing this fic that ultimately didn’t make it into the story. 

Enjoy!

* * *

Alright so let’s get this out of the way: How much does Sokka actually fucking spend on crocs?

  * A standard croc costs $44.99; let’s round to $45
  * Sokka buys 25 crocs
  * 25 x 45 = $1,125, BUT



a. This number is ridiculous and:

b. We have to factor in Zuko’s massive crush

  * In ch. 5, Zuko makes up a sale b/c Sokka has brought him a smoothie and he is malfunctioning 
    * The sale was BOGO
    * I didn’t find a way to include this in the story, but you should all be aware that after this, Zuko never charges Sokka full price on crocs again 
      * Iroh knows this and supports it
      * Sokka just thinks Iroh is awesome and has a lot of sales
  * So here’s the breakdown of what Sokka actually spent on each of his 25 crocs:


  1. $45
  2. $45
  3. $45
  4. $45
  5. $45
  6. $45
  7. $45
  8. $45
  9. $45
  10. $45


  * He buys ten at full price; the day he buys the 10th is when he gives Zuko the smoothie and is informed about the sale
  * The remaining 15 crocs were randomly discounted by Zuko or part of a BOGO deal
  * (The numbering should be 11-25 but I can't figure out how to format that on AO3 so just pretend) 


  1. $45
  2. Free - BOGO w/ 11
  3. $45
  4. Free - BOGO w/ 12
  5. $22 - 50% off
  6. $30
  7. $30
  8. $25
  9. Free - this is the one Zuko gives Sokka as a gift in ch. 6
  10. $25
  11. $45
  12. Free - BOGO w/ 21
  13. $30
  14. $25
  15. $20 - the final one, purchased the day Sokka asked Zuko out


  * Putting this all together, Sokka spent $792 on crocs
  * Which… yeah
  * Yeah, he’s still got a problem 


  * For fun, let’s compare this with how much Sokka actually makes: 
    * He’s working at Trader Joes
    * Florida’s minimum wage is apparently $8.56 an hour
    * I have never worked at a Trader Joe’s but a 2 second google search seems to suggest they pay above minimum wage, and I like Piandao, so let’s say that Sokka is actually making about $12 an hour 
      * (I have no clue how realistic this is but Sokka’s buying almost $800 worth of crocs so I’m cutting him some fucking slack)
    * It’s summer vacation so I’m going to say Sokka is working full time 
      * That’s typically 35 - 40 hours per week; let’s say Sokka is working about 37, plus or minus an hour or two
      * So: 37 hours x $12 = $444 per week
    * Summer vacation is typically about 10 weeks, so over the course of the whole summer Sokka would make: 
      * $444 x 10 weeks = $4,440
  * SO! Sokka is spending about 17.8% of his summer job earnings on crocs. 
    * This is ridiculous, yes
    * But I *promise* you it could have been worse
    * And at the end of the day he still has $3,648 to blow on gifts for Zuko



* * *

Outtakes: 

  * Zuko's Trauma Backstory 
    * Ozai and Ursa had a terrible abusive relationship
    * She was planning to leave him and take Azula and Zuko with her to protect them
    * But Ozai found out
    * And he wasn’t particularly happy with that idea
    * So, being the rich and powerful CEO of Caldera Industries that he is
    * And being well versed in shady evil business practices
    * He pays someone off to crash into Ursa’s car when she’s picking Zuko up from martial arts practice
    * He’s like 11 when this happens
    * She dies and Zuko is left with trauma pt. 1
    * There’s a funeral but Ozai doesn’t let Azula or Zuko go to it
    * New rule: no one mentions Ursa
    * They pretty much act like she never existed
    * This intensifies the trauma
    * Obvs Zuko and Azula don’t know Ozai had Ursa killed
    * At this point Iroh is pretty much out of the picture bc he’s grieving 
    * Two years later, Zuko’s very unhappy like all the time
    * Ozai thinks his son is a disappointment so he enrolls him in private summer schools to make him better (and also so he’s at the house less and Ozai doesn’t have to deal with him when he works from home)
    * At school one day, a teacher says something wrong and Zuko corrects them
    * And they sneer at him and tell him to be quiet bc he’s a child who doesn’t know what he’s talking about
    * And Zuko kind of bristles and yells that the teacher’s the one who’s wrong
    * He gets sent to the office 
    * Ozai gets called to the school to pick Zuko up
    * He makes Zuko wait there for like four hours after school ends
    * He’s yelling at Zuko bc he got interrupted at his very important job
    * Zuko’s trying to defend himself, like, the teacher was wrong!
    * When you are disrespectful and misbehave, it is a disgrace to me as your father
    * Perhaps wasting all your attention on disrespecting your teacher is why your grades are such a disgrace 
      * (Zuko has like… one B and maybe one A-)
    * But Zuko’s like, I’m trying father! I’m doing my best!
    * Ozai gets very still and is all like, “Is that so? Do go on, Zuko; tell me all about how you’re doing your best”
    * Zuko’s danger alerts start going off, but maybe he can make Ozai understand! There’s no way this is going to end badly!
    * So Zuko kind of tries to explain that he really is studying and trying really hard and he’s doing really well in almost all his classes -
    * And Ozai interrupts him and is like, come here, Zuko
    * And Zuko slowly approaches and Ozai grabs him by the ear, bodily drags him to the kitchen, and shoves his face into the lit stove. 
    * Ozai tells the nurses at the hospital that Zuko tripped
    * Zuko doesn’t say anything
    * Nothing really changes after that until maybe a year or two later? When Iroh spots Zuko in the background of a picture of Ozai 
      * Ozai doesn’t normally appear in many photos, but some journalist had kind of waited outside his house and snapped a picture as Ozai was leaving
      * And in the background there’s a blurry image of Zuko
      * And it may be blurry but it’s still clear enough for Iroh to see the MASSIVE FUCKING BURN SCAR ON HIS NEPHEW’S FACE
      * So he like hightails it over to Ozai’s house and drags Zuko right out of that abusive-ass environment 
      * He’s been trying to save up for a new tea shop but it takes zero deliberation to decide that Zuko is more important 
      * He starts pouring his funds into attempting to legally prosecute Ozai and get him arrested
      * Eventually, right as Zuko’s finishing up Junior year, Iroh gets offered the opportunity to open up a new croc store in Florida
      * He figures maybe Zuko could use a change of setting, and they decide to move
      * And then Sokka shows up
    * Probably only like 2% of this is going to actually make it ito the fic but like fuck it 
      * Wow turns out 0% of this actually made it into the fic; good to know



* * *

  * Suki works at Sephora 
    * She does not spend 17.8% of her salary on crocs
  * I considered making Aunt Wu Zuko’s therapist, but couldn’t decide whether that was galaxy brain or cursed or both, so I left it out
  * I considered trying to interview a croc store employee to better understand what the fuck they actually do so that I could write Zuko doing something other than stacking boxes 
    * Ended up deciding that there is only so far into the crocverse I am willing to fall
  * I like to think that in the background of the Zukka pining, the rest of the Gaang is just getting up to the wildest shit 
    * No matter what universe the Gaang is in, they are unbridled agents of chaos
    * While the events of this fic are unfolding, Aang tries to sneak into SeaWorld to ride the whales and Toph goes with him to scam the tourists.
  * Some fun quotes from my initial outline so you can see how much chaos energy was present in every stage of this fic - and also b/c I figure some of you might be interested in seeing how I plan stuff out (and again please ignore formatting issues; I love AO3 but I have no idea how to format things here): 
    * Sokka attempts to communicate but Zuko isn’t getting it 
      * “So, Zuko, huh?”
      * “Yes.” (Is he making fun of my name??) 
        * (no, he isn’t dumbass; he thinks it’s hot)


  *     * Guess I’ll never see him again 
      * (Oh how little you know)


  *     * Don’t antagonize our neighbors, uncle. Jeong Jeong hates us, uncle 
      * Uncle doesn’t care


  *     * He also goes to JJ’s and shows him his latest purchase 
      * JJ kicks him out and calls him a traitor
      * Has a minor breakdown; the crocs are everywhere; he can’t escape them
      * First Iroh, now this
      * A swamp dude came into his store yesterday and tried to juggle the antiques
      * Jeong Jeong is straight up not having a good time right now
    * Katara facepalms; all the men in her family are idiots
    * Iroh enters 
      * Is vaguely surprised to see Zuko… interacting? With another child?
    * Wonderful; Zuko’s managed to alienate the hot boy. Even though he had kind of been trying to alienate the hot boy? But now he regrets it? Why are people so difficult?
    * Zuko is moody and had bad self-esteem (bc what’s new)
    * Iroh invites Sokka to come by and play Pai Sho with him anytime 
      * (Please keep interacting with my nephew he needs friends)
    * (Zuko doesn’t understand what friendship is)
    * Sokka buys rainbow pride crocs bc Zuko please pick up on the social cues here
    * “See you later! Uh, bc of the sale! Gotta get those croc discounts! Definitely not coming back bc of you! Hahaha bye”
    * No one else was ever concerned about Zuko 
      * Oh no I brought feels to the crocverse
    * After having some sense lovingly beat into him by his chaos demon friends…
    * He’s wearing his rainbow pride crocs and hopes that Zuko will realize this question does very much not have hetero intentions 
      * Zuko still doesn’t get it bc he’s a dumbass 
    * They chat on the way to the restaurant 
      * ...figure out how to write dialog
    * They have a nice date 
      * ...figure out how to write dialog again



Hope you all enjoyed this last bit of crocverse content! 

Thanks again to all of you for reading, and with that:

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a comment! 
> 
> The next chapter will be up in a week; in the meantime, I'm on tumblr @seventyseasons if you’d like to say hi over there!


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